


take a break

by bloodrunsred



Series: just a little bit broken [3]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Abuse, Angry Morty Smith, Autistic Morty Smith, Depressed Morty Smith, Don't Examine This Too Closely, Drunken Kissing, Everyone Needs A Hug, Grandpa Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty), Hurt Rick, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Incest, Latino Rick Sanchez (Rick and Morty), Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mental Breakdown, Mental Instability, POV Rick, Past Rape/Non-con, Poor Life Choices, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rick Being an Asshole, Schizophrenia, Sexual Abuse, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, morty needs help, not a happy fic, poor Morty, rick is so abusive, rick sucks, this is half assed sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-19 19:26:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17007732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodrunsred/pseuds/bloodrunsred
Summary: "D-do y-you luh-love me?" Rick's shushing him now, like he's afraid of being overheard but that's so stupid because his mom always goes drinking at the bar, and Summer's always at her parties.Or: Morty doesn't want to say yes, but he can't say no to Rick.





	take a break

**Author's Note:**

> ok so NOT a happy fic. if implied/referenced noncon will trigger you, you should leave. nothing too graphic, just some dialogue and metaphors from a past memory in the beginning and kissing/reflection towards the end, so if that bothers you, please look out for yourself first.
> 
> idk if id be able to write anything more intense than this holy moley.
> 
> on a less dark note, im experimenting with my writing style some more!! this story is definitely different from the previous ones, just in terms of how ive written it, so let me know what you think!
> 
> came up with the basic plot listening to hamilton's 'take a break' which is such a cute song, but i was searching for story ideas and i thought, huh maybe morty needs to take a break.

"Hey, uh, Rick?" Morty's voice is unsure, every word breaking in his haste to get them out. Rick only grunts to indicate that he's listening, so Morty continues. "I was - I've been wondering if, maybe, I could - I could - could-"

Rick drops his screwdriver and Morty stops talking. 

It's one of their unspoken rules, something Morty has long been conditioned to obey. Rick is annoyed, shut your annoying mouth. Rick is frustrated, stop frustrating him. Rick has something to say, stop and listen to him. Rick, Rick, Rick, Rick, Rick. Morty just wishes for  _once_ , that they could do something on his terms for once. He's so tired, so exhausted that he feels closer to death than he ever has.

It's not regular exhaustion - no, it plagues him when he's rested, bone-deep and heavy, weighing him down always. It's as tangible as Rick is, and Morty doesn't think it will ever leave. 

"Could, could, could," Rick mocks him, pulling his alcohol-rough voice up to a trembling falsetto, butchering the simple word until Morty feels stupid, stupid,  _stupid._ "R-really, Morty?"

_"-Really, Morty?  I swear, you - you need to fuck off, I don't want you, I don't need you, no one does!- I'll keep you around until I'm bored of you, got it- you exist on my terms, you die when I say. I will kill yOU! Morty, Morty, Morty, die, die, die, go, go, go-"_

Morty shakes his head of the voices - memories? -  offering a smile he hopes is sincere. He needs something from Rick, and being rude or sarcastic would get him absolutely nowhere. He knows Rick, as much as any person could ever know him. And, even though he hates to admit it, Rick's similar to regular people in lots of ways. He has patterns; in his behaviour, his speech, how he reacts to things.

And Morty knows himself as well; knows how dumb and stupid he is, knows how Rick sees him. It's no leap of faith to assume that Rick will take anything Morty says at face value. Morty's not as manipulative as he could be and he doesn't lie as much as he could. There's no reason for Rick not to trust him, and that leaves a bitter taste in Morty's mouth.

"Uh, well, I was wondering if-" this is the real selling point "-maybe you could take dad - Jerry - out on an adventure?"

Rick raises his brow and snorts, as if to say  _'No way, go fuck yourself and also Jerry,'_ but Morty needs this to work. He needs it more than he thinks he's ever needed anything, more than he's ever needed his mom to give him a hug, more than he's ever needed his dad to protect him. 

"Please, Rick?" His voice is raw and he sounds like he's going to cry, even to his own ears. His eyes are suspiciously dry, though, considering who he's talking to. "Look, it's - everyone's having a hard time with the divorce and everything, but - I mean - dad needs something to stop him from - from-"

Rick snorts, abandoning his fiddling to stare Morty down. Morty needs to tone down the desperation he can feel pouring off him, the kind of feeling he's seen from aliens on the other side of his - Rick's - gun. He doesn't need a psychology degree to know that this is Rick's element, his favourite position to play; with someone looking to him for something, and him with all the power to crush them.

 Morty is afraid (why, Rick has to love him, has to care, what would he do? Why is Morty afraid to find out?), but Rick just sighs and reaches for his flask. Morty is less afraid, the cold he feels too often dripping down his spine like he's been struck by a bullet in his back again.

The cold settles over his mind as well. It's like a blanket, soft and comforting but Morty can't help but be worried about how blank he feels, like there's an emotion he's supposed to feel. LIke there's something missing, and he should be worried, but the exhaustion is back again and he doesn't know what he can do to make it go away. He's running on autopilot and Rick  _has_ to see it. 

Morty's not a stranger to what he's come to call his Rick Feeling. The cold dripping down and drowning him in a sea of nothingness. No feelings. No guilt. He can hear voices in his head, aliens and humans alike, asking him for different things and Rick is in the centre of it all. Rick's the one that doesn't ask, doesn't beg (and Morty can hear aliens, people, children, begging him for their lives to be spared but he's too tired to listen. Too tired to care afterwards) he tells.

And Morty's grateful for that in ways he can't describe. Because when his eyes are glossy from unshed tears and emotions he can't even name anymore, Rick's the only constant there to hold him together. 

(He's also the one making Morty break apart)

It takes Morty a minute to realise Rick was talking, and he flinches almost instinctively. 

_"-Why aren't you listENING - you're the most useless Morty I've ever met - yOU CAN'T IGNORE ME, MORTY - you belong to me, you listen to what I say - you're too stupid to not pay attention, Morty, I mean, come on-"_

Rick notices. Morty can tell in the way Rick's hand tightens around his drink, the way his mouth presses into a firm line for a quick second that lasts a lifetime. Something must have appealed to Rick's sentimental side (or Rick's just drunker than he thought), though, because he just stands and leaves. He realises only then that the sky was dark and the morning air is cold and sharp when he leaves his window open.

He can't sleep, but he feels rested in a way that feels strange and he hates himself for liking Rick not being there.

The emptiness plagues him.

 

* * *

 

Sometimes, Morty doesn't know why he's still alive after everything he's been through. He doesn't know why he even bothers, why he doesn't just drink himself to death (that's a lie, it's because he can't stand the thought of Rick with a new, better Morty) but sometimes things are beautiful too.

Rick's underground laboratory is beautiful.

It truly is, with swirling liquid in shiny vials acting as the only light in one room, and multicoloured tubes on full display. Morty runs his hand over the tubes and feels a weight drop into his stomach because he's sure he's never been here before but he definitely has. Morty was able to get into the laboratory pretty easily - he's Rick's helper after all, and he won't be much help if he can't serve Rick to the fullest extent - but he knows Rick won't have expected this from him.

Morty isn't complicated to Rick. No one is, but Rick has problems with crafting people until they are perfect for him, no matter if they aren't like that in real life. Morty's only noticed that with himself - how Rick expects things from him, wants things from him like he doesn't realise Morty can run out of things to give - but he knows that Rick can't have expected this.

Whatever it is.

He's not listening to Rick and he feels unsteady as he reaches for the helmet because that's the one thing he's supposed to do and, God, Rick will hate him for fucking up the simplest job in the world but he just can't cope anymore. Not with the headaches and strange feelings, and voices that tell him he's done something that he can't remember. He had panicked when it had first happened, the whispering and snippets that played like a broken record he couldn't stop.

He had googled it, of course, because  _holy shit did he have schizophrenia, had Rick finally ruined him forever?_

He still doesn't know why he hears them but he bets that the answer is hidden in the hundreds of vials -  _memories,_ his brain tells him out of nowhere - and he just needs it to stop.

Months ago, he might have asked Rick. But Morty has always been paranoid and he can't help but wonder if Rick would just make him forget all over again. He feels too much and not enough, and everything's in the wrong place he can feel it, and he doesn't know what to do.

He wants to let himself be controlled, like a puppet held by thin strings, but Rick will cut his ribbons and he'll  _fall_ and even if he doesn't know what he wants, he knows he doesn't want to be lifeless and useless. He wants to tell his mom, spill his feelings to her but he knows who she'll tell, knows that she won't give up her dad for anything.

Not even her son.

Summer adores Rick, and Morty resents the fact that she doesn't know what it's like to be so painfully pulled from all her morals, doesn't know what it's like to feel violated and afraid of a monster that's not even there. He doesn't want her to ever know (and that's apart of the reason he'll never let himself pull away from Rick) but he sometimes wishes she did.

He plays with the helmet idly for a few seconds more, before slipping it onto his head where it rested comfortably. He stares, wary, at the tubes before pulling a random one out and getting sucked into a memory he's supposed to have.

It's nearly five hours before he climbs back up the ladder, tears still streaming. He hurts but, God, it alleviates some of the emptiness and he can't believe how good it feels to finally care about something in a way that matters. Even if it's the bitter betrayal that settles in his mind at his mom choosing Summer, or the anger that comes when he can remember just how disgusting Rick is.

There was a vial labelled  _Virginity_ and Morty won't be able to forget how Rick made him feel, in the dark of his room with his family right down the hall. Morty wishes he hadn't seen it, but maybe it's better knowing why he woke up in the middle of the night fighting off hands that burn every inch of his body where they touch, and the invisible monster that shoves one hand against his mouth when he said  _"Please - please, Rick, please, I don't want it-"_

The faceless monster has a rough voice and is bigger than him, and Morty doesn't want to be awake, to be alive because he feels so  _disgusted_ with himself and he doesn't want to have the monster come back.

His mom is in the kitchen and he just needs a hug, just wants her help, but she pushes him away and says, "Sorry, sweetie, mommy had a rough day at work. No hugs." She's drunk and Morty breaks a little more then because all that's running through his mind is, "I choose Summer!"

He stumbles away, up the stairs until he's standing in his rom's doorway, trying to calm down by listing all his belongings in a secure space (a website said it helps with anxiety but Morty's not so sure because all he can see is the bed and he can't breathe-)

He slams his door behind him when he finally convinces himself there's nothing waiting to hurt him, but he can't touch the bed, cant lie down, so he grabs his pillow and curls up in the small space next to his bookshelf. He hugs his pillow to his chest like it'll stop his heart from breaking.

He finally sleeps and the voices are a little quieter.

It's only been around an hour since he came up, he realises when he wakes up to Rick shuffling into his room, closing the door behind him and collapsing on Morty's bed. He seems confused that Morty's not there but he only groans and Morty realises,  _he's absolutely wasted_.

He doesn't know what to think or how to feel, because maybe Rick wants to hurt him like - like that again, but it's Rick and Morty feels compelled to go over and see what Rick needs. He never gets what he wants so he stands, trembling, to walk over cautiously. 

"Rick," he says, voice raw and hoarse from the screaming he did in the room, "are you okay?"

Rick doesn't say anything and Morty doesn't want to get closer because a wasted Rick is an affectionate Rick, and Morty can't afford to break down anymore than he already has. Rick whines a little, shifting until he's on his back and looking up at Morty's face.

Morty softens a little, "Thank you for taking dad - Jerry - out, Rick."

Rick grumbles again, reaching his arms at as though to grab Morty, and Morty doesn't have it in him to push Rick away. He knows what he wants to do, what he should do, but those never apply to him and Rick. It's about Rick, and Morty can't help but let Rick tug him down until he's curled up against Rick's chest with his heart in his throat. Rick holds him in a too-tight grip, but Morty is used to it.

He's worried about Rick hurting somewhere else instead, but he can't help but feel guilty.

Rick's amazing. He's a genius. There's no reason for him to want to touch Morty unless Morty did something that made him think it was okay. Rick can have anyone he wants (except for Morty but no, he can have him, can't he). He ignores the niggling thought that reminds him that Rick doesn't do anything that he doesn't want. He doesn't think of the fact that Rick usually drags him along for the ride anyway.

"Wh-Why are you," Rick starts to talk, slurring every syllable but Morty is hung on his every word, "you want to get away - leave me?"

Morty opens his mouth to deny it, to promise Rick he isn't going anywhere, but he chokes on the words before they can leave his throat because he honestly doesn't know. He wants what Rick has to offer - and isn't that selfish, wanting to see the stars and galaxies and beauties of the universe, but not letting Rick do what he wants in return - but he doesn't know if he can take it all.

What if he lets so much of Rick in that he's not Morty anymore?

"No," he whispers at last because as much as he's confused, he can't give up Rick. For all Rick's done - and it's all Morty's fault, he's sure of it because there's no way anyone would want him of their own volition and he should be grateful that someone does - he's what Morty needs to stay live. Like people needed water, Morty needed Rick because without him he would wither and die.

Rick tightens his grip slightly, and Morty can't help the words that tumble from his mouth next, "Rick, what - why did you - why do you hurt me?"

Rick stills and Morty almost believes that he's passed out and that he won't get an answer. This moment feels too raw, too charged, and even though Morty knows Rick won't remember any of this in the morning, he's afraid he'll slip up.

He's afraid Rick will finally see him as a  _person._ Rick's not stupid, he knows Morty has a beating heart and a (mostly) functioning brain, but Rick never considers his feelings like he considers Beth's. Or Summer's. He knows they can get upset at him and even if he doesn't care, he acknowledges it and he'll even apologise (sincerely or not) if he feels like it.

"I don't know, Morty," Rick's voice sounds way too serious, and the quiet that surrounds them is almost deafening, "I neve- I don't know."

Morty shouldn't say it, he shouldn't but, "Are you - will you do it again, Rick?"

Rick knows what he means, he pushes Morty's face into his neck and cards his fingers roughly through Morty's curls as he searches for a response, searches for the truth because wasted Rick is maybe the most truthful. He doesn't ask how Morty knows, how he remembers, just pulls him closer.

"Yeah," the scent of alcohol is overwhelming and Morty blames it for the tears as he clutches Rick closer, "I'll - you'll forget, baby, don't worry."

Morty wants to get closer and get away and in the end it's just easier to listen to Rick because it's the only time his brain feels calm. Secure.

"I don't want-" to forget, to do it, to stay, to go. Morty can't finish his sentence because there's no right thing he wants to say. No one thing he can express without cracking even more and exposing the broken pieces of his heart for Rick to create whatever he wants with them.

"I know, baby," Rick doesn't need Morty to finish but he doesn't care either because he grabs Morty's jaw and captures his mouth. Morty's first instinct is to tense up, to fight and he can't help but connect Mr. Jellybean to Rick in this moment because he feels exactly the same way. He knows he can't win with Rick, though, so when Rick lets go of his bruising grip of Morty's jaw to cup in tenderly instead, Morty sobs into Rick's mouth and lets his body go boneless.

He feels dirty and disgusting but he likes how Rick is holding him like he matters, likes the attention he's never gotten from anyone else before. He can almost pretend it's someone else but he still doesn't like it. It doesn't help that Rick's tilting his face up, with gentler hands, so they have to look at each other. Morty closes his eyes and cries and he wants Rick to make it all stop.

He loves Rick, he has to, because if he doesn't he'll break and there's no reason to go along with him. Morty is scared of Rick hurting him but it's not lie Rick hadn't before. This was new and unfamiliar and Morty's worried that he'll grow to like it because maybe Rick loves him back.

He knows Rick was emotionally stunted - he has proved as much again and again - and maybe this is how Rick is used to showing his love for people. Morty's confused but he can't deny that, even if he doesn't like it, it feels  _good._ No one has touched him before (that he can remember) and it's new. Weird.

"R-rick," Morty needs to know, he has to know, "do you - are you doing this with - with mom and S-" Rick kisses him again before he can finish his sentence and, even though Morty knows he's trying to be gentle, he's rough and whiskey-blind.

"No," Rick breathes. Morty knows how much of a bullshitter Rick is but as he stares at Rick he can't not believe him. "It's only you - my Morty, my - my baby Morty."

Morty's crying even harder and he doesn't know how to feel about the gratitude and happiness that shoots through his body at being the only one Rick loves this much. He clings to Rick and pretends not to notice Rick smiling because this is probably all apart of his plan.

"D-do y-you luh-love me?" Rick's shushing him now, like he's afraid of being overheard but that's so stupid because his mom always goes drinking at the bar, and Summer's always at her parties. 

"I love you, baby, Morty, I do, see?" Morty doesn't know if he's telling the truth but he's so, so grateful because he loves Rick too and he needs Rick to need him.

Morty can't stop the tears from coming because if this is all a dream, he wants Rick to love him, he wants to help Rick love him. Loving Morty can be hard. His mom has said so, Summer has said so, even Jerry gets sick of him.

"I luh-love you, R-rick," he says, avoiding Rick's mouth for as long as he can because it feels so wrong and he feels bad he's making Rick do this.

Rick stills for a second before he pulls the covers to cover him and Morty, urging the teen to sleep even though it's not late. Morty's not even worried that someone will come and see them like this, lips slick and swollen, cheeks flushed, covered in tears, and his brown curls messy. He's not worried that someone will see how Rick's leg is between his own, Rick's hands lower than they should have been on his back and higher than they should have been on his thigh.

Rick's the only one that comes into his room anymore.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> ok, so this was an intentionally confusing story. its from morty's pov, a mentally ill and abused child who is struggling to cope with all the stuff ive forced him to. 
> 
> with the tiny schizophrenia references -morty hasnt been diagnosed of course, but his behaviour in my story does reflect a lot of the warning signs of schizophrenia (hallucinations, trouble sleeping, feeling extreme apathy in intense situations), and its more of a quick note if anything.
> 
> click [HERE](https://xbloodrunsredx.tumblr.com/) for my tumblr!


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